Sail Away
by TheChicaChic
Summary: This is perhaps the hardest letter I've ever written. For months, I've agonized over if a letter was the right course of action; what to say, how to say it, and even if it would be safe to do so. A more happy, AU story following Ruth's leaving in 5.5. Now Complete.
1. Sail Away

_**AN: Hello all and welcome to my new little fic for our favorite couple. This is primarily a fluffy piece starting one year after Ruth sailed away on that little barge. It's a bit different in that it's primarily going to be letters to Harry; at least at first; so I'm hoping you like it. The title is a play on the song by The All-American rejects called "Drive Away" which gave me the idea for this bit when I heard it on my iPod**_

_**I am working on the ending of **__**Bet U Wish U Had Me Back**__** which will hopefully be completed sometime this week. It should bring a happy ending to the story though I have outlined a non-happy one too if enough people are interested in reading it.**_

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It's late as he approaches the front door. Another long day of fighting terrorists and politicians bent on changing the landscape of the current world. As such, he's probably not thinking straight as he spots the parcel sitting on his front step.

Wearily bending down, he picks up the box and stares at it a moment. It's small; no bigger than a shoe box; and is wrapped in an indescript brown paper. A familiar shipping companies label adorns the front of the box, his name and address carefully typed into the fields. He frowns as he turns it over, but sees nothing more than the tape holding the paper closed.

As it's late and he's tired, he's probably not thinking straight as he tucks the box under his arm and unlocks the door. Stepping over the post lying on the parapet floor, he shuts and locks the door before setting the alarm. Than with his coat still on, he makes his way into the sitting room and settles into his chair, his back creaking as he leans against the cushion.

Glancing at the departure location, he notes that it had come from Bordeaux in France and frowns. As far as he can recall, he knows no one in Bordeaux, let alone France. Finger sliding under the tape, he carefully unwraps the parcel. Inside he finds the expected box. Pausing only a moment, he lifts the lid with only the slightest of trepidation.

Inside he finds a simple, letter sized envelope resting on top of another, smaller box. But the anxiety is gone as he recognizes the small script across the front of the envelope.

_Ruth_, he thinks as he picks it up with only the slightest of shaking visible in his hand.

'Read me first'.

Only for a moment does he think of ignoring her request and going straight to the other package. Pulling the letter free, he breathes deeply a moment, the faint scent accompanying it one he'd never forget, before unfolding the paper.

Fingers trembling, he reads.

_Harry,_

_ This is perhaps the hardest letter I've ever written. For months, I've agonized over if a letter was the right course of action; what to say, how to say it, and even if it would be safe to do so. I'm no more decided now than I was then, but I need to tell you some things and this was the only feasible way at the time._

_ I want you to know not a day goes by that I don't think of you. Most days, I hope you're happy; that you've managed to move on with your life. Others I somewhat selfishly wish that you're not. That you feel the same ache deep inside from what we almost achieved. Because if you're happy and have moved on, there will never be a chance for us. And somewhat naively I hold onto the thought that there will be. Yet, even more than that dream, I want you happy. And if you've found some semblance of happiness with someone else, embrace it and know that it's alright. Your happiness is what I want most._

_ Don't think that I'm not happy. Most days I am. I won't lie to you and say it's been easy. We both know the difficulties facing someone forging a new life based on lies. At least not with any planning or resources at their disposal. But so far, everything has been manageable. That morning I left was one of the most difficult I've faced so far; watching you stand on that cold dock as the barge sailed away. I wanted to make him turn back; to throw my arms around your neck and never let go. But I couldn't. Not when you're meant to be there still, a pillar in the face of evil._

_ The barge let me off in Calais; close enough that I could still see England in the distance and yet know that I could not go back. Not then. And not yet. I didn't stay long even though I wanted to. It was too dangerous, too likely that someone we know would spot me. I found a bus heading southwest and spent that first night in Totes. Those first two months, I kept moving from village to town to city, carefully make sure I wasn't followed. Eventually I settled in Bordeaux, where I spent the next ten months._

_ Which is perhaps the most important reason that I am writing this letter to you. I'd never thought to settle so soon after leaving England. I thought at first I'd part in my own Grand Tour; not the capitals as we talked of that lone dinner we shared; but their sister cities. When I arrived in Bordeaux, my plan was to see the sites and move on, but at that point, it was obvious I couldn't. There is no easy way to tell you this; not by letter at least; and not after so many months have passed. But you need to know. I want you to know._

_ On June 29th our daughter was born. I didn't know when I left that I was pregnant; how could I when our one night together had happened not a week before. Nor did I realize it as I moved from village to village as my primary thoughts were just keeping myself safe. It was only after those two months that I realized. And made the decision that I couldn't keep traveling; that my first thought had to be the health of our child._

_ I named her Aubrie Skylar; something I hope you'll be alright with. She was three days late, this daughter of ours. Right from the start she was stubborn like her father and late like her mother. And I loved her so much. She was seven pounds, two ounces with the finest of blonde hair covering her head and the palest blue eyes. She was so tiny; bigger than I had thought obviously; but tiny compared to myself and the world. And totally dependent on me. The first she rested her little hands against me, I knew that no matter what, I needed to protect her._

_ By the time you receive this package, we'll have moved on. It's what has taken so long for me to send this. Brie is now three months old and thriving. She's just started smiling; something I'd read to not expect until at least four months; but she can. And she's a talker. Not only to me but to everything that moves past her. Soon I think she'll be rolling over if the tiny pushups she's doing are anything to go by. By all accounts, she is healthy and happy._

_ I wish you could see her; hold her. But it's not safe. If I know you as well as I think I did, you're even now contemplating abandoning everything to come and seek us. Whether out of only a sense of duty or because of love. Please - don't. It's an awful thing I'm doing taking this chance away from you; and if you never forgive me, so be it; but Brie's safety must come first._

_ As I said, we're both happy and we're together. I tell her about you every night. At least as much as I can as we never had the chance to really know the other. I also tell her how much you love her. So be it if it's a lie but I won't have our daughter growing up thinking her father doesn't want her or love her. I don't believe it to be a lie though; not if you're the man I thought you were. She's still too young for me to have to come up with a reason that you're not here._

_ And should I be wrong and you don't want to be her father, we'll be okay. All I ask is that you keep the box I've sent safe until I can return to retrieve it. It's not our daughter; I can't give you that; but I have sent the important non-biological bits of her. Her real birth certificate as I've managed to acquire a valid looking fake as well as the identity bracelet she wore in hospital and a lock of her hair. I've also sent along the originals of her sonograms as I'm afraid of forgetting them somewhere in our travels. The rest of the box is most of the pictures I've of her from the day of her birth._

_ I miss you every day and wish things could have turned out differently._

_ Please be safe._

_ Ruth_

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_**AN: So...more? If so, leave a review and I'll put up another letter.**_


	2. The Rain Falls Down She's Crying, Crying

It's December when the next package arrives; just three days until Christmas. He doesn't even think of waiting until then but rather carries it to the sitting room and sets it on the floor. Though it's larger than the last; much larger and heavier; he knows without a doubt that it's from them. By the size though, he wonders what it is she sent him.

Crossing to the kitchen, he drops his coat on a chair before forgetting the dinner he'd planned and pulls the scissors from a drawer. As he makes his way back to the box, he kicks his shoes off and discards his jacket; before lying the scissors on top and lifting. Carefully making his way up the stairs, he turns towards the old guest room at the back of the house and steps in.

Leaning towards the right, he uses his elbow to flick up the light switch, blinking as the soft glow fills the room. As his eyes adjust, he crosses to the rocking chair he'd purchased that's sitting in front of the window and settles into it. Setting the box on the rocking ottoman in front, he carefully cuts away the tape, not sure what's waiting for him.

As he opens the lid, the first thing he spots is another envelope sitting on top of sheets of tissue paper. This time his curiosity of wins out and he sets the envelope on the window sill. Turning back to the box, he pulls away the paper to see what it is he's gotten.

And pauses.

Tears well in the corner of his eyes as he reaches a hand out and lifts the white blanket to his face, the fabric soft against his nose as he breathes in the scent of baby powder and what can only be his daughter. Eyes closing a minute, he rests his cheek against it and imagines it wrapped around their daughter as she rests in Ruth's arms.

Smile on his face, he breathes in the smell from it one last time before folding it and setting it next to him. Hands reaching into the box, he proceeds to pull the little dresses and other outfits he knows his youngest has worn. As he reaches the bottom, his hand brushes against another box. Pulling it free, he lifts the lid and spots a picture that makes his heart stop.

Aubrie and Ruth; together.

It's the first time in one year, one month, twenty-six days, and thirteen hours since he's seen her face. In the first box she'd sent, there had been a few pictures of Ruth holding their daughter; including one that must have been taken minutes after her labour; but in each, her face had been obscured. But not this one.

This one has Ruth smiling at the camera as she holds Aubrie with her back against her mother's chest, the little girl sucking on her foot.

Lifting it, he holds it for minutes, just staring, his eyes tracing over the two most important people in his life before setting it on top of the blanket. He flicks through the rest of the box before putting the lid on and standing.

Crossing to the almost empty shelf along the wall, he sets the box next to the other and glances at the albums he'd bought. One of these nights he'd sit down and actually put the pictures into them instead of looking through the box. But for now, there were more important things to do.

Like finding a place for the clothes she sent. As he picks up the box, his gaze settles on the chest of drawers in the corner. Perhaps it's a bit delusional and a true attestation to the state of his mental health but he's taken the time the last two months to transform the guest room to a nursery. As a place for their daughter to live when he brings the two of them home.

He'd managed to refrain from painting the walls pink as he didn't think it'd be a color Ruth would have chosen. It'd been hard though. Instead he'd settled on a pale yellow and done the rest up in a classic Winnie the Pooh. Perhaps there were more modern themes but he had fond memories of reading the tales to his older two and he wanted to carry those with his youngest.

As he finishes lying the little outfits in the bottom drawer of the bureau, Harry sets the box on the floor and crosses back to the chair.

It's time to read the letter.

Lifting the blanket and picture, he settles them on his laptop before pulling the letter out. As he rocks back and forth slowly, he unfolds it and finds a picture resting between the pages. Picking it up, he smiles as he realizes it's another picture of Ruth and Aubrie. This time standing in a stone archway. Fingers brush against the glossy paper before setting it to rest on top of the other.

As he begins to read, he smiles.

_Dear Daddy "Edward";_

_Mummy said that we could write to you and tell you what we've been up to. We're both doing good but miss you lots and lots. I'm now standing with the help of mummy and love bouncing up and down on her knees as I laugh and coo. It shouldn't be long before I'm ready to sit on my own; I can toll over from my tummy to my back and then again to my tummy. The first time I did it scared mummy though as we were lying on her bed and I got too close to the side. She wouldn't stop hugging me for hours and now I'm only allowed to lay on the side of her bed against the wall._

_I've got my first tooth now too. It hurt when it was coming in and I'm not looking forward to getting the others. Mummy tried to make me more comfortable though by rubbing my gum with her finger and she didn't get mad at me when I would bite her while nursing or on all the nights I spent crying instead of sleeping. She just sat with me, rocking me and kissing my head as she told me stories about adventures you two shared._

_We spent the last few months living in Andorra la Vella while mummy worked in a resort there as a child minder. It was a really good job for her because she didn't have to leave me with a stranger; she could keep me with her. I didn't like sharing her with the other kids though. She's my mummy and not theirs. When we weren't at her work, we spent time exploring the old towne parts, visiting the old buildings. The picture mummy sent is the two of us at the Casa de la Vall. It's the house of their parliament; something mummy thought you'd get a kick out of._

_It was a nice place to visit but we both wish you were with us. You could have carried me against your chest while I rested in my sling and held onto mummy's hand as your wandered the old, stone streets. Or before it got too cold, we could have all sat on a blanket in the Central park, curled together with the book of Winnie the Pooh stories mummy found in an old bookstore. She said you might not want to read it but I hope you would._

_We didn't spend all our time in Andorra la Vella though. We visited other towns and parishes in the country. Our last place to visit was the town of Canillo. We just left there a few days ago. Because we went in December and got to visit the Canillo Nativity Scene. Mummy isn't usually a religious person but the town transforms the streets into a Christmas route set in a period atmosphere with lots and lots of life sized figures._

_We're moving on again to a new place. Mummy says we have to keep moving so no one finds us and hopes that one day, she'll find a way that you can get in touch with us so we know when it's safe to come home. For now, we both love you and wish you a Merry Christmas._

_With all our love;_

_"Adele and Jane"_

Before standing, he reads the letter a second time. Then, carefully folding it, he places it back in the envelope and carries it through to his office. Opening the safe, he pulls out the folded map and turns to spread it across his desk. With a small tab, he marks Andorra on the map before refolding it. Placing it and the letter on the shelf with the first, he locked the safe. Picking up the phone, he dialed a familiar number. As the person picked up, he settled into his chair.

"Malcolm - it's Harry. I've another place they were recently." pausing a moment, he waits before continuing. "Andorra. And Malcolm, Ruth's changed the color of her hair to a dark blonde."

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_**AN: I have most of this planned out and already written, just need to type it up and tweak a bit here and there. Happy to see the positive reception to the first part and I hope it carries over into the second installment. Up next, another letter from Aubrie and Ruth as Harry continues to track them down.**_


	3. All the Heartache, All the Pain

Three months pass before the next letter reaches Harry. It's come by post addressed to an Edward Rochester and so he almost misses it as he sorts the junk into the rubbish bin. But as he spots the familiar scrawl across the envelope, he heart rushes. The quiet over the past months has started to worry him, especially as Oliver Mace had slipped through their web and disappeared two months before. The only reassurance he's had is his last known location was some tropical getaway with fruity drinks and scantily clad woman.

And sharks.

There's been a bit more luck on locating his family. Using the last photo he'd received of the two in Andorra la Vella, Malcolm had been able to locate them moving through passport control into France again on Christmas Eve. The trail had been quiet for a few weeks before they'd been spotted passing through a check-point in a small town of Claviere, Italy via rental car.

As he takes the letter to the nursery and settles into the rocking chair, he looks around the room he's been adding a little too as the time allowed. Prints of the various characters from the Pooh stories now adorned the wall, as do blown up copies of the picture of Ruth and Aubrie at the Casa de la Vall and one that Jo had produced from some function or another he'd not known existed; of him and Ruth turning from a table to look at the camera.

The original of that had joined the original picture of his wayward girls on the table next to his bed.

He's also taken to buying age appropriate toys and other activities to further infant development as the toy chest next to him will attest to. Filled with things like plastic stacking rings and a box with various shapes cut out of it to slide through a separate piece and various plush toys with different meanings. Next to it, his most recent purchase rests; an activity gym with rainforest animals hanging about it.

He knows he's rushing things; that there are no reassurances that Ruth and Aubrie will be able to come home to him any time soon but he _hopes_ that he is wrong. That before too long, they'll be back in England where they belong. Though he also knows that there's no guarantee that should that happen Ruth will even want to live with him but he's hopeful. Even if he has to clear out his office and transform it into a room for her.

Checking the post mark, he's somewhat pleased to see Torino as it means Malcolm is on the right track of following their movements. Turning it over, Harry pulls out the letter and opens it. It's shorter than the previous two; much shorter; and as he reads the few lines written in haste, he feels his chest tighten.

_Edward,_

_I don't have much time to write this but I wanted to let you know that we're both alright. We had a bit of a scare as we slipped into Italy. One that has had us on the move every couple of days but then, when one sees a mace, they tend to panic. Please don't worry, I'm being careful, but our letters to you will have to stop for now. Adele and I will be fine; I'm taking us somewhere I don't think anyone would think of looking; and I promise to find some way to contact you._

_Please take care and remember what you promised before I left._

_Jane_

As he grips the paper tightly, fear courses through him. The letter was posted a week before; Ruth and Aubrie could be anywhere now. And something told him that the names Malcolm had been tracking wouldn't be much help anymore. Not if Ruth was scared and running. She knew enough to figure out a way to get new documents for the two of them.

A thought grips him and he reaches into his pocket to retrieve his mobile. Dialing a familiar number, he waits only a moment before the other picks up.

"Malcolm, it's Harry. Add the names Adele and Jane to your search using the last names Eyre and Rochester."


	4. Their Hearts are Bound Lying, Lying

Key in the lock, Harry thinks over the events of the last month. He has no idea where Ruth and Aubrie have gotten to; she's slipped under the radar and Malcolm has had no luck in locating them. It's not his fault though and Harry cannot hold it against his friend. A threat on the life of the Prime Minister had taken priority over the girls and by the time they'd gotten back to their search, the trail was cold. Harry had hope though that another letter would arrive but so far, nothing.

As he steps into the entry, he pushes the door closed. Fingers lifting to the alarm, he pauses.

It's off.

And he specifically remembers setting it this morning. As he has done every day for years.

Setting his briefcase on the floor, he silently straightens and makes his way down the darkened hall, wondering where Scarlett is. It's too quiet in the house, now that he's had a moment to think about it. As he silently rounds the corner into the sitting room, he stops, his mouth opening silently. Closing his eyes a moment he counts to ten before opening them again.

It's them.

Huddled together on the floor in the space between the long couch and his arm chair are Ruth and Aubrie, Scarlett staring at him from her place at Ruth's feet. As of now, she's the only one who is awake.

Lifting his finger to his lips, he steps quietly into the hall and makes his way back to the door. Ensuring the locks are all in place, he turns to set the alarm before shrugging off his coat and suit jacket. Putting his shoes under the coat rack, he turns back towards the sitting room. Now that the house is as secure as he can make it, he can go to them.

Stepping into the room, he crosses to the windows, his eyes never leaving his family. The light coming in from the street lamps is dim and as he closes the curtains, it darkens significantly. Turning a side lamp on, he finally settles on the low coffee table and watches them, still not believing that they're actually there.

Ruth's hair is no longer blonde or even really brown but on the verge of black. It's shorter than he's ever seen it on her and is currently pushed away from her face as if by a weary hand. And he supposes it was if the deep lines on her face are anything to go by. He can't see the rest of her, hidden under the large coat she's pulled over them.

And for the first time, he sets his eyes on their daughter. Only her head is visible as she lies curled into Ruth's shoulder. Her tiny face is pressed into her mother's neck, a small hand lying on her chin. Harry watches as her nose wrinkles and her mouth falls open in a sigh before his eyes are drawn to the wisps of curly brown hair on top of her head.

He's not sure the amount of time he sits there watching them sleep. It could be five minutes, it could be five hours. What he does know is for the first time in seventeen months, he feels whole again.

It's when his hip starts to pull from the position he's been sitting in; unmoving; that he moves to wake them. He doesn't want to; it's obvious they need the sleep; but as he stands, Scarlett jumps up and trots over to him, taking the decision away. As the weight leaves her feet, Ruth's head jerks up and she looks around in a moment of panic, her arms shifting under the coat around their daughter. As her eyes settle on him, he hears the breath rush through her.

"Harry."

And then she relaxes, the coat slipping down as her arms go slack and she starts crying.

He's on his knees in a second, somehow fitting himself between the furniture, to wrap his arms around her. It's uncomfortable; with the drawer handle of the end table pressing into his back; but it doesn't matter and she turns into him. With their daughter held snugly between them, Ruth buries her face in his neck and sobs. There's nothing he can say, nothing he can do, but hold her close. His face pressed into her hair as he whispers what he thinks are comforting words.

Eventually she calms, the sobs turning to hiccups and sniffles, as she turns her head to rest it against his shoulder. Her warm breath plays across his skin as she mumbles something. He can't hear her; not with how their sitting; and so with great difficulty, he pulls himself away from her. As he gets to his feet, he pulls the coat free of them and tosses it over the chair.

Then, reaching down, he goes to slide his arms under his daughter to lift her but something makes him pause. It shouldn't but it does. He doesn't know if he's allowed to touch her; hold her. Through red eyes, Ruth sees his dilemma and moves forward, carefully transferring the sleeping girl to his arms. As he straightens, Harry pulls Aubrie to his chest, tears pricking his vision as he feels her solid weight for the first time. Sitting on the couch, he shifts her around, staring down in wonder as the eight month old settles against him, her head resting against beating heart.

He feels the couch shift as Ruth sits next to him and he looks over to see her wringing her hands together. Moving a hand, he lets it rest over hers and smiles as she leans against him.

"I'm sorry." she says quietly, her thumb brushing against him. "I didn't know what to do or where to go."

"Why are you apologizing?" he asks her, looking at the top of her head in wonder.

"I broke into your house. I'm bringing a load of trouble to your door step." She shifts slightly, her hands moving from under his to smooth down the fabric of her faded jeans. "I'm sure there's more I need to be sorry for."

"You'll apologize for nothing." he says, voice rising as he moves towards her. "Nothing. Do you understand me?"

Eyes lifting to his, she nods, not wanting to fight with him. Not now. As she takes in the sight of Aubrie sleeping soundly against his chest, she smiles softly as tears fill her eyes. For so long she's wondered what he would look like holding their daughter, but the actual sight is so much sweeter.

Harry meets her smile with a small one of his own, wondering how and why she's here now. He's not going to complain; not when he's been searching the continent for them; but he does need to know what's going on.

The sound of a car backfiring outside has Ruth jumping from the couch next to him, her eyes looking around the room in a panic. Watching as she moves to grab the coat off the chair, he tightens his grip on Aubrie as she moves towards him.

"Ruth." he says softly.

"We have to go."

Hand reaching out, he grabs hers and pulls her back onto the couch, his arm going around her shoulders.

"It's alright. Just a car." he says quietly, feeling her body shake against his. "Ruth. What is it?"

Ruth shakes her head as she leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she buries her face in her hands. His hand slides down her back in a comforting movement as her shoulders shake again. They sit like that for awhile until Ruth suddenly sits up, breathing deeply as she does so.

"I'm sorry." she says again, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm a mess. Everything's such a mess."

"We'll figure it out. Together. I promise. Just tell me."

She nods and is about to tell him their story when Aubrie wakes up, her little arms stretching over her head to brush against his bicep.

Harry shifts his eyes from Ruth's and watches in wonder as little eye lashes flutter open to reveal gray-blue eyes. She stares at him a moment, wondering who this stranger holding her is before her lips start to smack together and she whimpers.

"I...she...she's hungry." Ruth says, reaching her arms out. "She hasn't eaten in hours, not before we left Sao Miguel."

"Azores. Portugal." he says, moving Aubrie to her arms. He tries not to watch as she lifts her jumper and pulls down the white, cotton bra she's wearing but he can't help it. He's fascinated by the site of their daughter latching on, her cries quieting to the occasional sucking sound. Reaching a hand out, Harry lets his palm rest against the soft hair covering her head and lifts his eyes to Ruth's, seeing her red cheeks.

"Yes." she says, lowering her eyes to the hand on their daughter's head. "We were only there a month. I rented a cottage on Terceira. There's a US Air Force detachment there. I thought we'd fit in a little better speaking English than on the other islands. Not long enough to settle when...when..."

Shifting closer, Harry wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

Drawing strength from him, she continues. "We were at the afternoon market, just picking up some things for the evening meal. It's not my normal time to go but Brie was fussy the night before; she's cutting another tooth; so we spent the morning napping. When we came back...they were in our cottage."

"Who, Ruth? Who was in your cottage?"

"Mace. Oliver Mace and five other men." Tearing her eyes from the head of their daughter, she met his eyes, the tears there. "I just ran. Panicked. We took a ferry to San Miguel, spent the night in the air port. When they didn't turn up, I bought two tickets to Heathrow and came here. I didn't know where else to go. Everywhere I go, _they_ turn up. It's what made me send the first letter. I wanted to contact you, call you and tell you. But I couldn't."

"It's alright. You did right." Harry leans forward, pressing his lips against her forehead. "You're safe now."

"Mama mama mama." the tiny voice pulls them apart and Harry looks down, his hand brushing against Aubrie's cheek as she smiles up at them, two tiny white teeth peaking through.

"Both of you are." he says. Lifting his eyes to Ruth's, he watches her. "Can I hold her again?"

Adjusting her shirt, Ruth nods, holding the little girl out to him, blushing as she meets his eyes. "Do you mind if I use the bathroom, clean up?"

"Of course. There's a powder room by the kitchen." he pauses a moment, thinking. "Or a shower, upstairs. The guest bath doesn't have any towels, or soap for that matter. But you can use mine."

Nodding, she stands and makes her way to the chair. Reaching behind it, she pulls out an oversized bag. Turning, she meets his eyes. "Our things. I never went out without taking our passports and some other things, mostly for Brie."

He frowns, realizing she has brought nothing but the clothes on her back and their daughter. Standing, he crosses over to her, his free hand reaching out for the bag. As they make their way up the stairs, he quietly leads her to his room. Flipping the light on, he steps to the side and gestures her in.

"Take a bath, relax. When you're done, help yourself to anything in the wardrobe."

"What about Brie?" she asks quietly, stepping into his room, her eyes taking in the simple furnishings.

"I'll take care of her." Stepping into the en-suite, he flips on the light, Aubrie still resting in his arm. "There's fresh towels on the rack."

As he steps back into the room, he finds her sitting on the edge of the bed, the double picture frame clutched in her hands, tears falling from her eyes. Sitting next to her, he shifts Aubrie to his other arm and reaches out to grasp her hand.

She sits there a minute, staring at the pictures before setting them back on the nightstand. Brushing the tears from her cheek, she looks at him.

"You must think me crazy."

"Ruth..."

"No, I can't stop crying, jumping at the slightest thing. I'm sorry. Really, I am. This isn't me."

"I know." Fingers squeezing hers, he leans into her. "Ruth, you've lived seventeen months of hell. You're allowed to be jittery, upset even. Don't apologize."

Standing, he pulls gently on her hand until she stands. Wrapping his arm around her, he pulls her flush against his body, holding her tight. "And we'll talk about it in a bit. Right now go and take a bath. I'll spend some time with Aubrie."

Nodding, Ruth steps back, tear tracks on her cheek. Looking up, she gently cups his face and kisses the side of his mouth softly. Hand running down his arm, she squeezes his hand in hers before brushing her lips against Aubrie's head and turning to the en-suite.

Harry watches as the door closes slowly before looking down to meet the eyes of his daughter. With a smile, lifts her until he can brush his nose against hers.

"Come along Miss. Aubrie. Let's go see your new room."

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_**AN: This was the actual ending spot but I can spin a few more chapters if anyone is interested. Leave a review and I'll post the next if you are.**_


	5. Tears Fall Down Your Face

She manages ten minutes in the shower before a body gripping panic seizes her. Forehead falling against the wall, she feels the hot water beating against her back as she struggles to breathe.

_In. Out. In. Out._ she repeats in her mind, her lungs burning as she struggles with pulling in air.

Tears are falling from her eyes as she sinks to her knees, the water rushing over her. Salt mixes with the water running over her face and she falls forward onto her hands, retching. She's not sure how long she stays there, water pouring over her as she struggles to breathe, pain gripping her chest, but eventually she moves.

Turning off the water, she pulls herself up, trembling as she pulls back the curtain. Hand reaching out, she pulls a towel off the rack and lifts the thick, gray cotton to her face. Rubbing it once across her hair, she proceeds to wrap the fabric haphazardly around her body. Hair dripping, she steps from the shower and pads barefoot across the room.

Avoiding the mirror, she opens the door and steps into the bedroom, her eyes seeking Harry and their daughter. Fear grips her again as she fails to find them.

Fingers gripping the top of the towel, she quickly moves from the room into the hall. Pausing, she glances around wide eyed, panicked until she hears his voice coming from the open door diagonal from his. Stepping to the doorway, she stops, her hand going to her mouth as she takes them and the room in.

Harry's standing at a changing table, a pile of ripped diapers dropped to the floor next to it. He's intently focused on fastening the little strips of tape to the front of the diaper as he speaks quietly.

"There. It might have been awhile since I've had to change a nappy but I think we did pretty good."

His hands slide up the baby's sides, gently gripping her under the bare arms as he lifts her up. Lifting her until his mouth meets her stomach, he blows a raspberry against it, causing her to laugh. Smiling, he rubs his nose along her chest as he lower her, his mouth finally coming to rest on her cheek in the softest of kisses.

"Though daddy may have to run out to the store for some more once mummy's done in the shower. I think I've used them all." Holding her tight, he presses a kiss against her cheek as he turns towards the door. "Let's see what mummy has for you to wear to sl..."

He stops in mid-sentence as he takes in the terrified, wide eyes of a dripping Ruth standing in the door, her hand at her mouth.

"Ruth, what is it? What's wrong?"

She shakes her head as she watches them, the tears falling from her eyes as she struggles to form the words to explain what she's thinking. How it's been so long since she's felt any kind of security. The constant fear of someone finding her always playing at her mind. How she's never gone a minute without Aubrie being in her sight. It's at that thought that she lifts her arms out, the tears still running down her cheeks.

He's across the room in a second, pressing their daughter into her outstretched hands, his arms wrapping tightly around her back to pull her close. As she leans into him, she looks up, the terror slowly leaving her eyes. Silently, Harry maneuvers them into the room, walking backwards until his knees hit the seat of the rocking chair. Sinking down, he pulls her into his lap, his arms holding them as he moves the chair in a gentle rocking motion.

"I'm sorry." she says after some time, her voice hoarse.

"What happened?" he asks, his cheek lying against her wet hair. Feeling her shake her head, he lifts his cheek to look down at her. "Ruth, please, talk to me."

"I...I...panicked." she whispered, eyes lifting to his. "I was standing in the shower, water pouring over me and I just ... couldn't breathe. All I could think, as I was struggling for air, was I had to find Aubrie. It's irrational, I know. She was safe. You had her. But this overwhelming fear, it gripped me."

"Oh Ruth." his arms tighten around her as he leans down, his lips brushing the tears from her cheeks; as they softly brush against hers.

"She's never been out of my sight." Eyes moving to the squirming baby in her arms, Ruth tries to smile. "From the moment the midwife placed her in my arms, I've always been with her. They tried to take her to the nursery, made it as far as the door to my room, before I freaked. The doctors all said it was normal, explained it as a form of post partum depression; especially as they believed her father had passed away unexpectedly; but it was more than that."

Turning Aubrie in her lap, she moves the towel, exposing her breast. As Brie grabs on and starts suckling, Ruth brushes her fingers once through the brown curls before meeting Harry's eyes again.

"I wasn't completely honest in my first letter. When I said that I wasn't followed. It wasn't true, but I didn't want to worry you anymore. There were men waiting for me in Calais. Friends of Mace's. They grabbed me as I stepped from the boat yard, shoved me in the back of a car. I didn't know what to do. I was alone. Supposed to be dead. Emotionally a wreck having left you back in London." She pauses a moment, her mind going back to that cold morning. "They were silent as they drove through the city, a gun pressed to my side to ensure my compliance. I was terrified and fully expecting to die. We...we pulled up to an old warehouse. I don't know how long we'd traveled. It could have been miles or mere blocks. They dragged me from the car, pulled me into the building and threw me in a room. It was cold. So cold. I remember seeing my breath as I huddled on the concrete, Ros' coat wrapped around me. They shut the door, left me alone. There was a little light, coming through the broken windows. There were rats scampering along the base of the walls, hissing as they stared at me."

His arms tighten around her as the image forms in his mind. Of Ruth sitting on the floor of this dirty room, alone and scared. He'd been a mess after watching her leave, finally dragging himself from the dock long after the barge had left sight. He'd been on auto-pilot, doing what needed to be done. Once mace had been dealt with, he'd locked himself in his office, a bottle of whiskey his only companion. And for forty-eight hours, he drank himself into a stupor, everyone giving him a wide berth. But he'd been so sure she'd been safe.

"Hours passed. I could hear them out there talking. Debating what to do with me. Eventually Mace showed up, bitter at the injustice you were causing him. He was so angry. Told those men who had grabbed me to leave for awhile, that he needed to speak with me alone. I was so scared, Harry, as he opened that door. He stood in that doorway, that coat of his hanging behind him and he sneered at me. He just watched me for awhile, eyes burning hatred into mine. It was then I knew he meant to kill me. And over what? Being caught out? I cowered, hands covering my head, and I waited. Waited for him to step into that room and hit me. But it never happened. He started screaming. Loud screams of agony. I looked up and found him on the floor, one of the rats clawing at his head. I don't know what happened; how the rat came to be on him. All I know is I ran. The guys he'd had pick me up weren't there. I managed to get out of the warehouse, to find the bus station. I bought a ticket to Paris. Waited in the crowd of people for the bus to pull up. And in the commotion of people disembarking and fighting with their luggage; of people trying to push their way on; I slipped away around the front. Boarded a bus to Rheims. I spent those first two months traveling through France by bus or walking from village to village. I slept in abandoned cottages in the country or hostels in the larger towns and cities. Dyed my hair red. Eventually I found myself in Bordeaux. It was crowded and so easy to slip around. I found out I was pregnant. And so I settled for awhile. Worked in a cafe, saving as much money as I could, until Aubrie was born."

He's crying now as he thinks of what she went through, of all that she suffered because of him. His arms have tightened around them as tears fall freely. "I'm so sorry." he manages to choke out as his face presses to her hair. "So sorry."

It's her turn to comfort him as she turns awkwardly, one hand sliding up to press against the back of his head. They hold each other, tears mixing. It's Aubrie who eventually pulls them from the gloom, her hands smacking against Harry's arm. "Dada."

She's finished nursing as she says "Dada" again, more out of reaction to being ignored than really knowing who he is. Harry sniffs, his eyes blood shot as he looks down at his daughter. Smiling wetly, he moves to lift her to his arms, his lips pressing against hers as he settles her. Breathing in her scent, he turns to Ruth, meeting her red eyes.

"Eventually, I'll want to know everything. Every movement that you made. But I can't, not tonight. Just...tell me. Did they...hurt you? Ever?"

"No." she says softly, wiping the tears from both their faces with the edge of her towel, propriety long forgotten. "After I left that warehouse, I managed to keep avoiding them. Them finding the cottage in Azores was the closest they managed to get to us."

"Thank God." he whispers, his eyes meeting hers. "Thank God."

Nodding, she slowly stands, the towel falling to the floor having long come undone. His eyes move over her briefly but there's nothing sexual in his gaze as he slowly traces her curves. Now is not the time for anything physical to happen. He knows that. She knows that. But he wants to see her, to see the changes that have occurred.

She's thinner than she was that night after Havensworth; thinner but rounder in the hips. As she breathes in, he can see the faint outline of her ribs and he frowns at the thought of her losing weight. Aubrie gripped in one arm, he stands, wrapping his arm around her waist, the need to take care of her; them; overwhelming him.

Carefully guiding them back to his room, he leads her to the bed. As she sits on the edge, he hands her Aubrie, his gaze holding hers a moment before he turns. Crossing to the wardrobe, he pulls it open and roots through a drawer. Finding the old, cotton t-shirt and shorts, he turns and crosses to her. Setting the clothing next to her, he picks up Aubrie and lies her on the bed, watching her a moment as she stares up with wide eyes.

Content that she's not going to move, Harry reaches down and picks up the shirt. Shaking it open, he grips the hem and holds it out towards Ruth, sliding it carefully over her head and down her arms. Letting it drop, he next picks up the shorts and squats down, his hand gently gripping her ankle as he slides her leg into the opening. Pulling them up, he rests his hand against her hip as she stands, allowing him to finish dressing her.

This done, he stands before her, his eyes watching hers closely. Hand lifting, he brushes the hair from her cheek and leans down to kiss her softly. She sighs as she kisses him back. It's a gently kiss, a chaste kiss, as he pulls away only moments after their lips meet. Smiling softly at her, he takes her hand and leads her around the bed. Leaning over, he pulls back the duvet and sheets, and gently guides her between them.

Settling the material around her body, he silently moves across the room to where he left the bag she'd brought earlier. Opening it, he pulls out a set of pale purple pajamas and turns back to them.

"There's a stuffed rabbit in there." Ruth says softly, finally breaking the silence that has surrounded them since his quiet thank God.

Nodding, he turns back and looks through the outfits, eventually finding the purple and green bunny. Carrying them to the bed, he sets the rabbit down and proceeds to help Ruth dress their daughter for bed. Sitting on the edge, he watches as Ruth lies Aubrie next to her, stuffed rabbit clutched in little hands.

Standing, he crosses to the wardrobe again and opens a door. Digging through the top, he comes back with a long pillow. Sliding it on his side of the bed, he tucks the duvet around his daughter before meeting Ruth's questioning eyes.

"I need to run to Tesco, pick up some things." he pauses a moment as he sees the fear come back to her eyes. Settling on the bed, he reaches out and picks up her hand. "I'll be right back, I promise. No more than an hour."

"But..."

"You'll be safe, I promise. I'll make sure the house is locked and the alarm set before I go. No one can get in." Leaning over, he brushes his lips against hers briefly before turning and kissing the top of Aubrie's head. Standing, he whistles. "Scarlett, come here."

They're quiet for a moment and then the sound of tiny claws can be heard scraping against the wood of the floor.

"Up." Harry says quietly and watches as the dog obeys, jumping on his side of his bed. "Stay. And guard."

Scarlett obeys, turning round once between settling with her face towards the bedroom door.

He knows she's not much of a guard dog, more likely to lick someone to death than bite, but he's pretty sure it'll help set Ruth's mind at ease. And he's right as she glances at her, fingers clutching the duvet tightly.

"I'll be back." he says softly, his hand brushing the top of Scarlett's head before he leaves the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

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_**AN: Right, I'm going to continue this story as there's interest and the ideas won't leave me alone. It will eventually be a lot happier, I promise.**_


	6. One - You're Like a Dream Come True

_**AN: A quick update tonight as it was brought to my attention we never really saw Ruth's reaction to the nursery. Thank you all for the lovely reviews - they always make me smile.**_

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It's the gray light of dawn tiptoeing across the room that wakes Ruth the next morning. For a moment, she suffers another flash of panic as she tries to remember exactly where it is they've landed. But then, as her eyes fully adjust to the light, she relaxes and feels a smile tug at her lips.

She's curled on her left side; left hand under the pillow resting firmly in Harry's, her right joined with his on their daughter's stomach. It's not how she'd fallen asleep, waiting for him to return from Tesco the night before. At least that she remembers. But as she'd leaned against the headboard, Fidget had come to make his presence known, curling himself on her lap after spending twenty minutes smelling her hand, and his constant purring had lulled her to sleep.

Sometime during the night; she's willing to bet Harry had something to do with it; the cat has moved to the space by Brie's feet, curling up with Muggle and Scarlett. They're there now as she glances down, smiling at the six of them sharing Harry's bed.

Speaking of which, she turns her attention back to the man. It's the first time she's ever observed him in sleep and it makes her heart skip a beat. The lines that normally fill his face are slack, making him look years younger than he normally does. His hair, longer than it was when she left, is curling on his head and half of it is sticking up, He's snoring softly, something she hadn't known he'd done, but then, the one night they had spent together in this bed hadn't seen much sleeping.

She blushes at the thought, her fingers curling around his under the pillow, and turns to their daughter. Brie is still sleeping on her back, stuffed rabbit clutched in the fingers of one hand, her brown curls pushed into the pillow. Her other hand has found its way to Harry's cheek, tiny fingers pushing into the skin there, and her face is turned towards his, tiny mouth open as she makes gurgling noises.

As she observes them, she notes that not only has Brie inherited Harry's hair, but his full lips as well. And for the first time, she's glad that Oliver Mace and his men had shown up at her cottage. Had they not, she and Brie would still be there - alone. Not here with Harry. It might not be the ideal situation, nor had they really talked of anything aside from those few minutes the night before, but this is where they belong.

By his actions, Ruth knows he wants Brie; that he isn't going to turn his back on their daughter. Not that she's ever really thought he would. But that nagging voice in her head, the one that constantly tells her the worst possible scenarios has whispered more than once that Harry wouldn't want either of them, not once he'd had her in his bed.

She's not sure exactly how long she lays there watching them sleep, but the light has fully lit the room when her bladder tells her she needs the loo. Carefully untangling her hands from Harry's, she moves to lift the duvet when his eyes snap open.

"Where are you going?" he asks, his voice thick.

"To the bathroom." she says quietly, her cheeks flushing as she sits up. Legs swinging over the side, she turns back to look at him, his eyes still on her. "Can you make sure Brie doesn't roll off the bed?"

"Mmm. Yes." Head still resting on the pillow, he wraps his arm firmly around the small girls waist as he watches her. "Promise your coming back?"

She's passing by his side of the bed when he says this and she pauses a moment, turning to look at his back. It has been seventeen months since they've been together, since they've had any kind of conversation, but she can hear the slight tremor in his voice at the thought she's going to leave. Climbing onto the bed, she carefully kneels behind him. Leaning over, she brushes her hand through his hair and kisses the side of his mouth softly.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be." she tells him truthfully.

As she climbs from the bed, Harry rolls onto his back, his arm still crossing his body to hold their daughter in place, and watches as she crosses into the en suite. Eyes closing, he falls back asleep and misses her stepping back into the room not five minutes later.

More awake now, she watches them a moment before turning to leave the room. She's not leaving; she was being honest when she'd told him there's nowhere else she'd rather be; but there is something she needs to check. Stepping into the hall, she quietly crosses to the open doorway she'd paused in the night before.

Then she'd been gripped with panic and her only thoughts had been that of her daughter. But now; _now_; she can appreciate the room. And as she steps onto the thick carpet, she has to gasp because the room is beautiful. Had she any doubts before that Harry may not want Brie, this room chases them all away.

The walls are painted a light yellow, lighting the room in the early morning light. Along the top of the wall, Winnie the Pooh and others from the Hundred Acre Wood dance about on an old fashioned border. The carpet is a thick cream and is the only carpeted room she's found in the house so far. To her left, a large crib is set up, the cherry wood polished to perfection. Stepping towards it, she looks down and sees the sheets and comforter match the border. Along one side of the comforter, little stuffed animals sit; a yellow Winnie the Pooh, a pink Piglet, an orange Tigger, a gray Eeyore, and brown Kanga and Roo.

Walking alongside it, her fingers brushing the wood, she comes to the windows. The shades are pulled high, lighting the room through thin, yellow curtains. In front of the window, a matching rocking chair sits; the chair they were all in last night as she told him how scared she'd been. Sitting down, she looks around the rest of the room; the floor to ceiling book shelf along the hall wall, empty save for a handful of books. The last wall of the room holds a chest of drawers and a changing table, the pile of shredded diapers still on the floor. Next to it sits a toy box, the lid up to show the pile of toys inside.

She can't help the tears that fall as she takes it all in. He'd done this for their daughter. Given her the most beautiful of rooms in his home, filled with everything she could possible need or want. It's at that moment that she falls even more in love with him.

"If you hate it that much, we can decorate it however you want."

Turning towards the door, she finds him standing them in only a pair of pajama bottoms, Aubrie awake and resting against his chest.

"I don't hate it." she says quietly, standing from the chair. "Quite the opposite actually."

Harry steps into the room, crossing to her. As he stands in front of her, he lifts a hand and gently brushes the hair from her face, his eyes on hers.

"I got worried when Aubrie woke and you weren't back."

"I wanted to make sure I hadn't dreamed this room up over night." Hand reaching out, she brushes her fingers against the side of his face and smiles.

Turning his cheek into the palm of her hand, he meets her smile with one of his own. "You really like it?"

"No." she says softly, her eyes glancing around the room once before meeting his. As the smile leaves his face, she rests her hand on the back of Brie's head and leans up, pausing with her lips near his. "I love it."

That said, she presses her lips against his, her eyes slipping shut as the kiss deepens.


	7. Two - Just Want to be With You

_**AN: Finally got thirty minutes of peace from family, friends, the S.O. and the wanna be S.O. to actually write a quick update. Hopefully more this weekend but I won't promise as things seem to be going bananas.**_

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In the here and now, Harry is aware of only three things.

The weight of his daughter cradled against his heart.

The silky, smooth warmth of Ruth's skin as the fingers of his free hand slips along her lower back.

And the feeling of Ruth's lips pressed against his as her fingers follow the curve of his cheek bone to rest in the strands of his sleep tousled hair.

So it comes as a surprise when something hits him in the chest. Eyes fluttering open, he slowly pulls his mouth from Ruth's and finds his gaze drawn to the small hand smacking him.

"Mama mama mama."

It's the first time he can remember anyone calling him mama and in all truths, he's not exactly sure how to respond. His answer is provided as gray-blue eyes meet his. With a smile, he moves his arm from where it's resting on Ruth's waist and grabs the little hand. Lifting it to his mouth, he places a kiss against the palm, laughing as Aubrie's eyes go wide in wonder.

"She's probably hungry." Ruth's voice is warm but low as she slides her hand down Aubrie's back to rest against his. "She's gotten used to pureed fruit and rice cereal about this time of day but for now, she'll just have to make do with nursing."

"Ruth..."

"It's just I didn't think to get anything on our way here and it's too much of a risk to slip out to the store to get some." she pauses a minute, her hands moving to Aubrie's torso. "And it'll be a sure sign that you know where we are if you're spotted at the stores buying baby foods."

"Ruth, breathe." He tightens his hold on Aubrie as Ruth goes to take her and takes a step back. "Let's go down to the kitchen and see what's there."

Eyes lifting to his, she sees his smile and pauses. With a nod, she follows him from the room. "You're right. If you've any fruit, we can try mashing it. I've never tried it before but I'm sure there's something on the Internet to tell us how to do it."

By now they've navigated the stairs and are standing in the open space between the dining room and the kitchen.

"Even if you don't have any fruit, I'm sure there's something more than tuna and whiskey in your cupboards." At this she stops, her hand reaching out to his back. "You do have more than tuna and whiskey right? Because an 8-month old really can't have either."

"I'm not completely clueless when it comes to babies." Harry says, pouting as he turns his head briefly to look at her before stepping into the kitchen.

"Be that as it may..." her train of thought is lost as she follows him into the kitchen, her eyes stopping on the table by the window. She's not sure what to say as she takes in the large assortment of jars and boxes of baby food; stacked three and four high across the entire surface. "What...how...when...?"

Smiling, Harry turns to hand her Aubrie before stepping to the table, shifting boxes until he finds the rice cereal. "I told you last night I had to run to Tesco for some things."

Watching as he crosses to the counter; box in his hand as he reads the directions on how to prepare it; she shakes her head in amazement. She's beyond words as she thinks about the fact that he'd thought to purchase what looks like the entire isle of baby food products. Shaking her head, she finally meets his eyes when she feels him staring at her. "You bought baby food."

"Among other things." he says, measuring the correct amount of cereal into a small bowl. Mixing in some liquid, he makes sure it's consistent to the directions before looking meeting her eyes again. "As is or heated?"

Settling onto a high chair at the counter across from him, Ruth shifts Aubrie into a sitting position before answering. "As is is fine."

Nodding, he finishes mixing it and hands it to her. "In all my infinite shopping, I managed to forget the highchair."

"It's alright. Her carrier is in your powder room. But I can hold her while you feed her. I mean, that is if you want to? You don't have to. I can do it if you've other things to do."

"Can I?" he asks, his eyes lighting up at the prospect as he ignores the rest of her babbling.

"Of course you can!"

Turning the chair to the side, she watches as he quickly settles onto the chair next to her, his hand reaching out for the bowl. Smile on his face, he carefully starts to feed her tiny spoonfuls of cereal. It's quiet for a few minutes as Ruth watches the intense concentration he's giving to measuring out what he considers the correct amount of food before lifting it to Aubrie's lips.

"What else did you get?" she asks after some time.

"What?"

"At Tesco. You said among other things when talking about buying the baby food. What else did you have to get?"

Spoon pausing in mid-air, Harry meets her eyes a moment before he shifts his gaze and continues. "I uh...noticed last night that you didn't really have much."

"No, only the bag I had with me for the market."

"And that looked like mostly things for Aubrie."

"It was." she said slowly, her eyes trying to meet his.

"Right. I was there getting more nappies, wipes and assorted other baby things when I thought you might need some things. It's not much. Really. The selection is limited but I grabbed you some necessities. A few shirts, some trousers, socks..." he pauses a minute, his cheeks actually flushing before he continues. "Some pants and bras. Not a lot - the selection wasn't the best but I was there and well, it's just the basics."

He's managed to render her speechless again. Less than 24-hours in England and he's managed to shock her more times than he did in the years they worked together.

"I don't know what to say." she manages to finally get out. "Except thank you."

"You don't have to say anything."

"But you've done so much; thought of things I didn't; and you didn't have too."

Eyes finally meeting hers, he reaches over and rests his hand on hers. "Maybe not, but I wanted to. You're my family; I want to take care of you. Both of you."

"Harry..."

"You are." he says, his voice taking a hard edge to it as he rushes on. "It's not been conventional, I'll admit. Far from it. We only had the one true date before you had to leave. But there was something between us. There still is. And now we have a daughter. We're a family."

"I didn't think of it that way." she says softly, turning her hand over to grip his. "You're right though, we are. But Harry, there's still so much we don't know about the other. Not only the mundane every day things but large bits; important pieces. And I can't ask you to provide for me. It's not fair."

"It's a good thing you're not asking than, isn't it?" Fingers tightening around hers, he continues. "Look, we don't know how long it's going to take to find Mace and neutralize him. Until we do, you're staying here. I'll not have you off in some God forsaken safe house. Before we make any big decisions or get into any arguments over what is and isn't fair, let's get to know each other. Let me spend time with our daughter getting to know her."

Looking down at Aubrie briefly before meeting his eyes again, she nods. "Alright."


	8. Rubber Duckie You're the One

**One Week Later**

It's the first time since they've arrived back in London that Harry has arrived home before one in the morning.

It's not his fault.

Ruth knows it.

Harry knows it.

And yet he still feels guilty.

He has no reason to feel guilty. Of this he's sure of. If anyone can understand the long hours and sleepless nights that he has to put in, it's Ruth. In the brief minutes they've had together; when he's wearily slipped into bed for a few hours sleep; she's done or said nothing to indicate that she's angry or disappointed or even indifferent.

She's not yelled at him or tossed him out of the bed to sleep on the couch.

She's not rolled over to turn her back to him or taken their daughter to another room.

Or any number of other actions Jane had done when he'd stumbled into their room after a long day, the dinner she'd prepared long forgotten to the rubbish bin.

No, each time he has slipped under the duvet on his side of the bed, Ruth has blinked her eyes open and blearily smiled at him, her arm wrapped tightly around Aubrie's waist. And as he has settled onto his side, his hand lying to rest on her bare arm, his fingers softly resting against Aubrie's stomach, she's quietly asked how he is and how long he has till he has to be back.

It's simple, those quiet moments they have in the dark of night, but it's meaningful too. They've not had a chance to really talk about future plans or what will happen when Ruth is free to live her life again, but he's hopeful that she'll stay, with him, and explore a life together.

But first they need to talk.

About so many different things.

Like what life was really like for her and Aubrie those seventeen months she's been away.

And the decision Ruth made all those months ago to protect his worthless ass and leave.

Or how they have managed to find themselves parents of an eight month old little girl when all they ever managed to go on was one dinner date that ended with a chaste kiss on the corner of the mouth.

They need to discuss taking the time to get to know each other. Go on a few more dates. Spend time as a family. Meshing their lives together.

That will come. In time.

Tonight; weary as he is; he wants to spend time some quiet time with them. See what it is they do in the evenings to amuse themselves.

He stands in the entry way after locking the door and re-setting the alarm, listening quietly for some sign as to where they are hiding. The downstairs is dark and there is no patter of claws on the hardwood. As he slides off his jacket, undoes his tie, and kicks off his shoes, he glances around.

A basket full of little clothes is folded and set to the side of the sitting room door jam. Further in the room, his old duvet is spread across the floor, a scattering of toys spread across it. The sight makes him smile as he remembers that first; and only; morning the three of them had together.

_It's a few hours after breakfast that Harry finds himself lying on his side, a thick duvet covering the hardwood floor of the sitting room. Earlier, he had pushed the coffee table against the couch making a space large enough to spread an old duvet from his bed across the floor to give a safe, warm play place before bringing down an arm full of toys. After setting them up, the three of them had settled down to play._

_At first, Ruth had sat next to him, a soft block in her hands as they watched Aubrie resting on her stomach a few feet away, her little hand reaching towards the block. Ruth had set it down next to their knees, her finger tapping the top of it. As Aubrie had stretched her arm towards it, she had cried for the block and Harry had wanted to give it to her but Ruth had settled her hand on his and mumbled wait._

_She'd been with him less than twenty-four hours and already the sight of her crying had pulled at him, but Ruth had been insistent that they wait. Just as he'd been about to move her hand, Aubrie had pulled herself forward slightly, her little legs pushing her closer. For the next few minutes they'd sat there, quietly encouraging her as she moved herself towards them on her stomach. Eventually she had reached them, her small hands pulling the block to her mouth._

_She wasn't crawling; not yet; but she was getting close._

_And for the last hour, he's lain on the floor playing with her, the two of them spending the time between the electronic interactive book and the rainforest animal gym. He's found that Aubrie loves the interactive book; pushing the buttons and listening to the various animal sounds; and they've spent most of the hour reading it and mimicking the animal - or at least Harry had been reading it and making the sounds. The simple pleasure of Aubrie sitting up against his folded legs and smiling urging him on._

_Eventually, she'd grown bored with the book and they had spread out on the duvet, both playing with the little stuffed animals hanging around the gym set._

Shaking his head at the memories; a soft smile flitting across his lips; Harry makes his way up the staircase. At the top he pauses a moment, looking around. Spotting the light to his bedroom on, he steps through the door, confused for a moment when he doesn't see them.

The sound of splashing water has him turning to the en-suite. Stepping to the door, he stops and watches as Ruth and Aubrie sit in the over-sized Elizabethan tub.

Leaning against the door, he smiles as Ruth carefully rinses the soap from Aubrie's hair and body; her knees bent to form a rest which the little girl can lie against.

He sees the moment Aubrie spots him as she stops splashing in the bubbles and turns, sliding off her mother's lap and into the water. Arms reaching out, Ruth gathers the soapy girl in her arms and turns to look at the door.

A blush fills her cheeks as she spots him casually leaning there, watching them.

"You're home early."

Pushing away from the wood, he crosses the room and with a stifled groan, lowers himself to the floor. Raising a hand, he brushes his fingers against the back of Aubrie's head, watching as she shyly turns an eye to watch him.

"We caught a break on the Tower bombers. Special Forces was going to bring them in. We'll be able to question them in the morning. I sent everyone home for some well deserved rest with orders to report in by eight tomorrow."

"A full twelve hour break." Ruth says, a smile pulling at her lips as she joins their daughter in shyly looking at him.

Nodding, he brushes suds from the fine hair on Aubrie's head and is graced with a smile from the girl. With her face still resting against Ruth's chest, she reaches out a tiny hand and grasps one of his fingers.

"Mama." she says quietly, pulling his hand to her mouth.

"Dada." Ruth corrects, resting her cheek against the top of her head.

"Mama mama mama mama." Aubrie chants, her lips wrapping around the side of his knuckle and gnawing gently as she continues to look at him.

"I'm sorry." Ruth says, meeting his eyes as she pulls his finger free from Aubrie's mouth. "I think she's teething again. She's chewing on everything."

"It's alright." Laughing, he leans against the side of the tub and watches them a moment before pushing himself up. "I'll just take a quick shower in the hall bath as you two finish."

"You could..." Stopping, she looks at him, her cheeks darkening as she shifts in the tub. "If you wanted, you could join us." Pulling her eyes from his, she looks down at Aubrie and rushes on. "We just got in and Aubrie's a little fish. We'll be here for another thirty minutes or more as she splashes and plays in the water. There's plenty of room; you've got a huge tub for some reason that I don't need to know; and I hate chasing you from your own bath. And I promise not to look. There's plenty of bubbles so if I close my eyes while..."

She's cut off by his finger pressing against her lips and as she looks up, she meets his eyes.

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

**_AN: Hi all - sorry for the delay. I've a lot going on right now but I'm hoping to get a bunch of smaller updates done on all the stories instead of big ones until things calm down. If you've the time, please leave a review. They brighten my crappy days and give me something to smile about. =0)_**


	9. Why Yes, I Am Happy to See You

**Previously on Spooks**

_"You could..." Stopping, she looks at him, her cheeks darkening as she shifts in the tub. "If you wanted, you could join us." Pulling her eyes from his, she looks down at Aubrie and rushes on. "We just got in and Aubrie's a little fish. We'll be here for another thirty minutes or more as she splashes and plays in the water. There's plenty of room; you've got a huge tub for some reason that I don't need to know; and I hate chasing you from your own bath. And I promise not to look. There's plenty of bubbles so if I close my eyes while..."_

_She's cut off by his finger pressing against her lips and as she looks up, she meets his eyes._

**And now**

"It's alright." he says quietly.

He stands there a minute, his finger against her lips, his eyes on hers. It doesn't come as such a shock; this shy boldness that Ruth has adopted. Being alone and pregnant; exiled from one's own country; was bound to force her from her hesitation. Bring her out of her shyness somewhat.

But it does come as a surprise.

Her sitting in his bath.

Naked.

Asking him to join her.

And their daughter.

For a bubble bath.

Where he'll be naked too.

The thought of a naked Ruth under those flimsy bubbles has his body reacting in a way he knows is not appropriate. Not right now. Slowly, he slides his finger downwards, a soft caress as he steps back. Without a word, he turns and leaves the bathroom.

Ruth watches his retreating back, her stomach twisting as she wonders just how awkward a position she has put them in. Whatever possessed her to suggest he share the bath with them? Sure, he had a huge tub in his en suite but he probably didn't take baths unless he had company. And his daughter and her mother weren't the type of company he probably preferred to share with.

"Mummy's an idiot."

Leaning back against the tub side, Ruth lifts her knees again and settles Aubrie against them to continue her bath. One hand resting firmly against the pudgy stomach of her daughter, Ruth lifts the cup she'd brought in with her and slowly dumps it over Aubrie's head. She's so focused on rinsing the soap off and muttering under her breath that she doesn't notice Harry step back into the room.

Wrapped only in his dressing gown, Harry watches them a moment from the door before stepping further into the room. Silently stopping next to the tub, he undoes the tie and lets the material fall in a soft whoosh to the floor. Stepping into the warmed water, he sinks down into the bubbles as Ruth's head lifts to meet his in a startled gaze. He's not sure what to say as he watches her, across the tub.

"Hello." Mentally he smacks himself at his stupidity. What made him go with hello?

"Hi." she mumbles, her cheeks red at the sight of the water and bubbles lapping at his bare chest. It's the first time that she's actually seen him unclothed. During their one and only night together, the light had never found its way on; hands, lips, and skin doing the seeing for them.

Harry is having similar thoughts as he watches the water flow around Ruth. The water's not very high; just enough to reach his waist; and as such, Ruth's chest is on full display. It's not the first time he's seen her breasts; there's been a number of occasions that he's watched her nurse Aubrie; but somehow that's different. Tonight, her full, soft breasts tease him and it takes all his willpower to stop from leaning across the bath and wrapping his mouth around a dusty peak.

Eyes moving from his chest, Ruth turns her attention back to their daughter, rinsing the last of the bubbly soap from her soft skin. Hands gripping her sides, Ruth lifts Aubrie from the water and blows on her stomach, smiling as the little girl laughs. As she settles Aubrie in her lap, Ruth stretches her legs out and freezes as her toes brush against his flaccid penis.

Floating turtle in his hand, Harry also freezes a moment at the feeling of her skin brushing against him. Eyes closing at the stirring in his groin, he breathes deeply as he counts to ten, thinking of anything but Ruth and him in this tub; alone.

"I'm so sorry!"

Shifting, she goes to move her foot but feels his fingers wrap around it.

"It's alright."

As his palm cups the heel, he slowly presses into the arch with his other hand, his eyes opening to meet hers. She's red and tense but as he continues to push into muscle, he sees her slowly relax, her shoulders dropping as she leans back against the tub side. He continues to massage her feet as Aubrie plays with her various toys in the water, her quiet giggles filling the silence.

* * *

**To Be Continued...**

_**AN: Not entirely happy with this chapter but it's just filler. Now it's choose your own HR Adventure because I've always wanted to do a choose your own adventure LOL. And who better than HR. Would you like:**_

_**A) To see them talk after the bath**_

_**B) Have Harry get called back to the grid smelling like baby bubble bath**_

_**C) Oliver Mace and his cronies show their ugly faces**_


	10. The Hardest Part is the Night

Ask any of the numerous politicians who had crossed Harry Pearce and warm was not an adjective they would use to describe him. Neither would loving, tender, or fatherly and yet; in the pale yellow nursery; this was what he was. As he slowly rocked the chair back and forth, he cuddled the little girl in his lap and continued to read Winnie-The-Pooh. Like the worn gray sleep pants and white vest he wore or the purple footsie pajamas she was in, his warm baritone voice wove the story of Pooh and his bees.

"He climbed and he climbed and he climbed, and as he climbed he sang a little song to himself. It went like this: Isn't it funny How a bear likes honey? Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! I wonder why he does? (Milne)"

Ruth stood in the doorway; basket of wash clutched in her hands; and smiled. They looked so natural; father and daughter; that she was hard pressed to believe they'd only been together a week. In her short life, Aubrie had not been exposed to many people other than Ruth herself so it was still surprising that she was so comfortable with Harry. Yes, there were moments of shyness but for the most part, she enjoyed being held and cuddled by him.

"Then he climbed a little further...and a little further...and then just a little further. By that time he had thought of another song. It's a very funny thought that, if Bears were Bees, They'd build their nests at the _bottom_ of trees. And that being so (if the Bees were Bears), We shouldn't have to climb up all these stairs. (Milne)"

Shaking her head, Ruth stepped into the room and met Harry's eyes. He offered her a smile before turning the page of the book. As he continued to read, Ruth placed the folded clothes in the drawers, and as Harry finished the story as she pushed the drawer shut. Setting the basket on the floor, she turned and watched as he stood with their yawning daughter, her head falling to lie on his shoulder.

"Someone's tired."

"She usually conks out after we read." Stepping across the room, she lifted her hands up. "I'll just take her and put her down in the other room, let you do whatever work I'm sure you brought home."

Harry let her slide her hand along Aubrie's back but kept his grip on the girl. "Ruth, don't you think it's time she slept in her own room?"

Pausing, Ruth looked up at him. "What?"

"Aubrie has a bed in here. There's no reason for her to be sleeping between us."

"You want to leave her alone?"

"It's hardly alone when she's in the next room over." Turning his head slightly, Harry kissed Aubrie's hair before carrying her to the cot. Lying her on her back, he pulled the light weight blanket up over her chest and running his hand over her head before turning to look at Ruth. "She can't sleep with us forever, and don't you think tonight is the right night for her to sleep in her own room?"

Looking from their daughter lying in the cot to him, she frowned. "Why tonight?"

"It's the perfect night." Stepping towards her, he gripped her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. Pressing a kiss against it, he went to lead her towards the cot to say goodnight when she yanked her hand from his.

"Why? You're not getting any sex."

"What?" Confused, he lifted his eyes to hers as he reached for her again. When he'd mentioned it being the perfect night for Aubrie to sleep in her room, he hadn't been thinking about sex or anything to do with it. Much as wanted to make love to her, he knew now was not the time. Obviously they needed to talk; to decide where their relationship would be going.

He knew what he wanted. To date her as well as bond with their daughter. To eventually marry her if it was something they both wanted. And maybe even have another child in a year or two.

He'd missed seeing her grow bigger with their daughter, feeling the first flutterings of movement followed by the full kicks. He hadn't been there when their daughter came into the world so he didn't know if she'd been quiet and thus worrisome to her mother or loud and boisterous, letting everyone know she was there. He'd missed watching Aubrie nurse for the first time or changed her first diaper and he hadn't been there to worry with her for the first night alone with a small infant.

Which was all he had meant by his comment with tonight being the perfect night. Harry knew Ruth had never left Aubrie alone to sleep aside from her afternoon naps. She'd said as much the week before. Because of that, he knew Ruth would be nervous. More so with Oliver Mace unaccounted for. Add in Aubrie might be fussy at first and he wanted to be here to offer support. Distract her.

At his silence, Ruth moved away from him, her eyes narrowed as she stepped to the cot. Seeing Aubrie's eyes closed, she kissed her finger tips and brushed them against her forehead. Grabbing the video monitor receiver and moved to the hall.

Following her, Harry pulled the door shut before speaking.

"Ruth, please just stop a minute."

Turning, her eyes on fire, Ruth glared at him. "Why? Am I ruining your plans for the evening?"

"No. You're not ruining everything. Just..." grabbing for her hand, he tried to lead her towards the master bedroom.

Pulling her hand free, she turned away from him. "I'm not having sex with you Harry."

"Hells bells Ruth, no one wants to have sex with you!"

As she stopped in the hall and stared at him, he realized exactly what he had said. "Ruth..."

"I'll sleep in your office tonight and move my things there tomorrow."

There are no words he can say as she takes the monitor into his office and closes the door. He stands there for long minutes, wondering if he should go to her before deciding to let it go. As he crosses to their bed, he settles against the headboard to think.

* * *

Bibliography

Milne, A.A. _Winnie-the-Pooh_. 1926 London: Penguin Group [USA] Inc., 2009.


	11. I'm Staring at the Mess I Made

It's not twenty minutes later that Ruth shifts for the eighth time on the couch and sighs. She's just not going to get comfortable on the small lump of rock that Harry has in his office. Not with the metal support bar digging into her hip bone and no throw.

"Alright. I give up." she mutters under her breath, pushing herself into a sitting position. "He was right and I was overreacting."

There's no one in the room, she knows this, but she feels the need to acknowledge what the universe is trying to tell her.

That she's being an irrational, over-emotional ingrate.

Feet slipping to the worn carpet, she looks around the darkened room. What she's looking for she's not sure, but she's not ready to crawl back to the master bedroom with her tail between her legs and admit she was wrong. To have the talk that she knows he's going to want to.

It's a functional room. Like his office on the Grid, everything has a purpose and a place. She's avoided the room in the short time she's been staying there; both out of respect _and_ resentment for his job. He's still the man she fell in love with all those months ago and she knows he'll continue to be that man.

But it's because of that that she had to run that cool, summer morning so soon after Harry and her had found their way back together. She knows she'll never go back to the Grid; not after all this; and she's not entirely sure what that will mean for her and Harry.

The Grid and the job _is_ what defined their relationship. Without it, they would never have been.

The metal biting into her right buttocks reminds her that she needs to stop thinking and move. Bending over, she grasps the receiver in her hand before standing. As she turns towards the door, something on the desk by the safe catches her eye. Silently crossing the room, she stops in the orange glow from the outside street lamp and sets the monitor on the wood.

Picking up the frames; the only hint of personal in the room; she stares.

And knows that her thoughts of only moments before were wrong.

Carefully putting the frames back where she found them, she picks up the monitor and crosses to the door. As she pulls it open and steps through the doorway, her eyes are drawn back to the desk and those pictures.

Harry is so much more than the Grid and the job. And so is she.

They just need to learn to exist without it between them.

With a soft smile, she pulls the door shut.

Leaving behind the images of all three of Harry's children together in that tri-frame; each in their infant years; as well as the image of the two of them.

* * *

_**AN: There should be another update later today with the rest of this chapter as long as I finish proofing it; but I thought that this little bit needed a chapter of its own.**_


	12. She is Love

As she steps through the doorway, Ruth pauses in the hall, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. It's not very late; perhaps half past eight; but the house is engulfed in quietness. For a moment she wonders if she listens hard enough, will she hear the scurrying of little feet but she's quickly put on alert as the skin on her arm tingles.

Something isn't right.

Looking around, she slowly moves down the hall towards the nursery and Harry's room, sure that when they parted earlier the nursery door had been shut. It's not now.

Harry's house is perhaps the safest place on the British Isles she and Brie can be aside from the numerous Royal homes but she's not naive enough to believe that no one could get in.

She did after all just the week before.

Of course, she had the code from their one night together.

Glancing down at the receiver in her hand, she doesn't see anything amiss.

Aubrie asleep on her back, the gentle glow from her Night Night Pooh doll illuminating her face.

Stepping up to the nursery door, she risks a glance into Harry's room and finds it empty. Probably down stairs, she thinks to herself. For a moment she contemplates going to get him, let him know something doesn't feel right, but she knows the delay could mean the difference between good and bad.

No, it's prudent that she not waste time.

Turning towards the nursery, she stops in the doorway and stares, the fear she had only moments before been feeling subsiding.

Harry is standing at the bottom of the cot looking down at their sleeping daughter.

He's changed in the time that they'd been apart; gone are the sleep pants and vest; in its place one of his many work suits. She can just see a tie hanging loosely around his neck and he's wearing bracers which means somewhere he's got a waistcoat and jacket.

She only has a moment to watch him before some sense tells him she's there. Silently he turns to look at her and in the faint light, she can see the ghost of a smile cross his lips. He turns once more to look down at Aubrie, whispering something she can't hear, before he crosses to where she is.

They step into the hall and in the confined space, they stare at one another. Neither knows what to say but both know what transgressed earlier cannot go undressed. It's finally Harry who breaks the stalemate as he softly grips her hand in his and pulls her into the bedroom.

"Special Forces botched bringing in our suspects. Three have slipped through the net we had and are now loose somewhere in Greater London." As he speaks, he finishes getting dressed. "My driver will be here any moment."

"Alright." she says quietly, not sure what else she can say. He has to go, this she knows, and whatever trouble or miscommunication they had earlier in the evening can wait.

Harry glances at her as he buttons the last of the buttons on his jacket and sighs, knowing she's angry at him and leaving now is just going to make things worse. But there just isn't time to get into the conversation that he knows they need to have.

So he settles for the mundane instead.

"I've left the nursery door open; Scarlett slipped in when I went to check on her."

"She likes to sleep under the cot."

"Ruth I..." headlights cross the wall of the room as a car turns into the drive and seconds later, Harry's phone is chirping. He sighs, his face falling as he realizes he's about to leave without settling things. "I...have to go."

She watches his retreating back and as he reaches the door, she calls out. "Harry!"

He pauses in step, his hand gripping the wood of the door frame as he turns to look at her.

"Be careful. Please."

He nods and looks like he wants to say something before turning towards the hall. She can hear his footsteps on the stairs, and as they fade, she sighs and turns towards the bed. It doesn't feel right sleeping in here with things so unsettled and so she decides to take her pillow and a throw to the office, hoping to find a comfortable spot on the old couch.

She doesn't have a chance to move though as a hand grips her arm and spins her around. Startled, she finds herself staring up into Harry's face.

"Sleep in here. Please." he says, somehow knowing yet again what was on her mind.

"Okay."

"Thank you." he says quietly, his eyes burning into hers before he leans and captures her lips with his. It's a slowly kiss; one that says everything neither were able to say; and yet its over entirely too soon. As he lifts his head from hers, he squeezes her hands. "I love you." It's a whisper as he steps back, his hand sliding free of hers.

And then he's gone.

Only Harry Pearce would drop a bombshell like that while walking out the door.

* * *

Twenty-One Hours Later

He's exhausted as he climbs from the back of the car. With a quiet murmur to his driver, he rolls his shoulders once before wearily making his way up the front walk. Juggling the bouquet of flowers in one arm and his attache in the other, he pulls the house keys from his pocket.

Unlocking the door, he steps through and quickly disarms the system. As he shuts the door, he sets the case on the ground and looks around.

The house is eerily quiet and as he straightens, he looks around. It's five-thirty; just about time for Aubrie's evening meal; and yet, there's no noise from the kitchen. Flowers still gripped in his hand, Harry walks down the hall, pausing briefly to look in the sitting room. As he steps into the large back room, he finds it empty. Setting the flowers on the counter, he turns and calls out.

"Ruth? Scarlett?"

* * *

_**AN: Hello all. I apologize for the delay in getting this up - between real life being crazy and not being overly happy with how this chapter turned out, it's been difficult to write. At this point, I'm not exactly sure how the next chapter is going to turn out as according to my notes, it can go one of two ways. But hopefully it lives up to the rest of the story. I'd love a review if you have the time.**_


	13. Livin' on a Prayer

_**AN: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter - your thoughts and comments have brightened some not so great days. As promised, here is the next chapter. I'd like to thank the brilliant but somewhat bonkers ladies over at 3 Words, 8 Letters for being my sounding board and offering feedback/suggestions as well as HR always lives on for answering my questions of clarification in England and also NatesDate and R4ven3 for their insights, help when I need it, and smacking upside the head. I apologize for any inconsistencies in formatting; this is the first chapter since I've switched from Microsoft Word and uploading the chapters to Google Docs and pasting them on FF's site so I can update while on the road and I'm trying to get used to the programs/touch screen typing.**_

* * *

**Previously on Spooks**

_He's exhausted as he climbs from the back of the car. With a quiet murmur to his driver, he rolls his shoulders once before wearily making his way up the front walk. Juggling the bouquet of flowers in one arm and his attache in the other, he pulls the house keys from his pocket. _

_Unlocking the door, he steps through and quickly disarms the system. As he shuts the door, he sets the case on the ground and looks around._

_The house is eerily quiet and as he straightens, he looks around. It's five-thirty; just about time for Aubrie's evening meal; and yet, there's no noise from the kitchen. Flowers still gripped in his hand, Harry walks down the hall, pausing briefly to look in the sitting room. As he steps into the large back room, he finds it empty. Setting the flowers on the counter, he turns and calls out._

_"Ruth? Scarlett?"_

* * *

**And now the continuation...**

He waits a moment; silent; as he listens for the sound of her voice or claws clicking against wood. But it doesn't come. Fear grips him as he steps from the kitchen, his first thoughts to search the house. It's as he's rounding the corner to the sitting room that two things cross his mind; the deadbolt wasn't locked and Aubrie's pushchair is no longer tucked away in the corner.

Nothing else in the room seems amiss.

As he turns and crosses to the stairs, two scenarios run through his mind. The most worrisome is that somehow Mace has figured out where they were hiding. That in the long hours he was at work saving the country yet again, the woman he loves and their child were kidnapped.

Or even worse - killed.

He tries to push this out of his mind but the other scenario; while nowhere near as bad for them or his life; is still a nightmare for him.

What if Ruth left?

It's not something that he wants to think about but he has to consider it. She had been angry with him; more than he can remember ever seeing her before. And while it had been over a misunderstanding, he had left before they properly sorted things out. Just a kiss and an I love you before he'd slipped into the night.

Standing in the hall, he finds all the upstairs doors open. His first stop is their bedroom. As he steps through the door, he finds the bed neatly made and the basket of her dirty wash empty. Opening the wardrobe he'd placed her things in, he finds the oversized bag she'd arrived with gone.

Turning, he quickly strides to Aubrie's nursery.

Again, everything is in it's place. Not a toy or book out. Reaching her dresser, he pulls open the middle drawer and finds it half empty.

Pushing it closed, he finds himself less worried that they were grabbed and more that she left him. The panic at how he's going to find them is setting in when he hears the door opening downstairs. Striding from the room, he stops at the top of the stairs and watches as Ruth struggles through the door with the pushcart, Scarlett, and what looks like shopping bags.

He can breathe again.

* * *

"Alright Scarlett, just give me a second to get in."

The small dog is pulling Ruth into the house as she maneuvers the pushcart through the door, the bags of shopping hanging from her other hand and the handle. As she manages to get all three of them into the house, she kicks the door shut with her heel and lets go Scarlett's lead. Hearing rather than seeing the dog scamper off, she lets go of the pushcart to disarm the alarm.

Only to find it off.

Frowning, she looks up and sees Harry standing at the top of the steps, a mix of weariness and relief on his face.

"Harry?"

Her voice seems to startle him from whatever thought he was in and suddenly he is bounding down the stairs. As he reaches the bottom, he doesn't stop but continues walking towards her, his hands removing the bags of shopping from her hands and dropping them to the floor as he walks her back into the wood of the door.

She's pressed against it and staring up at him as he places his hands on either side of her head. Briefly she wonders what it is he's thinking but that thought is soon chased away by his mouth pressing greedily against hers in what can only be described as a passionate and heated kiss. It's only Scarlett jumping against Harry's leg and barking some time later that has them pulling apart.

"Go away." he growls at the dog, his forehead resting against Ruth's as his eyes never leave hers.

The dog ignores him and instead continues to press her front paws against his legs; her tail wagging as she looks up at them and barks again.

Reluctantly, Harry steps back, his hands sliding from the door to Ruth's shoulders and then slowly down her arms. As he reaches her fingers, he squeezes them tightly, his eyes burning into hers before letting her hands go and turning his attention completely to the dog.

"What is it Scarlett?"

The dog doesn't answer, just turns around in a circle, her lead dragging behind her.

Watching as the long strip of nylon fabric catches on the rug, Harry realizes she more than likely wants her freedom and bends down to undo it. As the clip slips free, Scarlett gives a final bark before running into the kitchen, her claws clicking against the wooden floor.

Turning his attention back to Ruth, he watches as she steps away from the door, a small smile on her face, and moves to the pushcart. It's after she undoes the safety straps and lifts a sleeping Aubrie into her arms that Harry realizes they're actually here. And not some figment of his imagination that he's developed from the fear that she's left him.

"You're here."

"Where else would I be?" Ruth asks confused as she settles the girl against her shoulder. Turning to face him, she watches as he takes a step closer, resting one hand on the top of Aubrie's head before resting his other against her own face.

"I thought you'd left." He admits quietly, stepping closer so their daughter is snuggled between them and he can feel his knees brushing Ruth's legs.

"I did...somewhat." she admits, leaning her face into her hand. "We went to the park for awhile and then stopped at the market."

"No, I meant left me. Perhaps even England."

"Harry!" she says, shocked that he would even think that. "Why would you even think that?"

"Honestly? I wasn't sure what to expect after last night. It feels like we're on different pages and I don't like it." Moving his hand from her face, he wraps it around her waist and pulls her closer, his head resting on hers as she rests it against his shoulder.

"We ran out of nappies - and the food necessities. And after being stuck in the house for the last week, I decided that taking Aubrie and Scarlett for a walk to Tesco would be good. I didn't think about carrying it all back." Tilting her head back, she feels him lift his and moves so she can look at him. "While walking, I found a park. We didn't stay long but I was thinking...maybe...that...maybe when it's safe for Aubrie and I to be out for more than a few minutes in public we could take her there. Have a picnic. It has a pond with ducks and a huge playground with what looks like toys and activities for children of all ages."

He doesn't answer at first and she once again thinks she's said the wrong thing or taken them somewhere he doesn't want to go. But then he smiles and pulls her closer again and she relaxes into him.

"You're really not planning on leaving, are you?"

"No." she says softly. And realizes that its time they talk. Because otherwise all they're going to do is go round in circles until it finally becomes too much and ruins everything.

* * *

**Next on Spooks**

Harry and Ruth finally sit down and have the long needed talk about what happened while Ruth was away, the miscommunications that have occurred since their return, and what the future possibly holds.

If you've a moment, I hope you'll leave a review and let me know what you think.


	14. Long Way to Happy

**Previously on Spooks**

_He doesn't answer at first and she once again thinks she's said the wrong thing or taken them somewhere he doesn't want to go. But then he smiles and pulls her closer again and she relaxes into him._

_"You're really not planning on leaving, are you?"_

_"No." she says softly. And realizes that its time they talk. Because otherwise all they're going to do is go round in circles until it finally becomes too much and ruins everything._

**And now the continuation**

He finds them snuggled together on the couch; Aubrie resting in Ruth's lap against one of the cushions, her eyes following Ruth intensely.

After his panic earlier in the evening, the rest of the night has been quiet. And he's planning on keeping it that way.

Evening tea had been a simple affair of ready made salad and grilled chicken; one that Ruth had put together while he'd sat at the table with Aubrie, feeding her an orange mess from a jar.

The jar that claimed to be Vegetable Risotto Chicken.

Claimed being the operative word. By the looks and smell of the mush, it was the furthest thing from palatable food and he'd been unsure of how good it could really be but Aubrie had loved it. At least that's what he's going to believe by the large smile she'd had and the fact that she'd finished the entire jar.

While they'd eaten, they'd avoided having the talk, instead content to discuss the mini-milestones Aubrie was accomplishing.

Like crawling.

With the long hours he'd been working, he'd rarely seen Aubrie awake since they had arrived. Which meant he missed the first time she'd gone from tummy slithering to full out crawling. Ruth had managed to get a picture but a still photograph wasn't the same as actually being there.

And feeding her a meal or reading her a book after bathtime wasn't either.

After, they'd done the few dishes together; she washing and he drying; while Aubrie had sat on the floor with Scarlett. Now crawling, she had a new found love of playing with the dog; and while still a bit wobbly, she had enjoyed chasing the dog under the table. It was only after they'd finished and Ruth had crawled under after her that he'd gone up to take a quick shower.

And to turn off his mobile.

The house phone he's remembered to take off the hook too, when he'd gone upstairs.

Nothing and no one was going to keep them from talking tonight.

Which is why he now finds himself standing there quietly watching them play instead of being enclosed in his home office. Ruth is slowly moving each of Aubrie's hands in time with the words to the Incy Wincy Spider and the little girl is laughing as she does it.

"Are you going to come in?"

He's surprised as Ruth hasn't looked up from playing with Aubrie. As he moves from the door, he considers moving to his armchair; the one that has the imprint of his body from long nights alone; but halfway across the room, he changes his mind and veers to the left, settling next to them on the couch.

As he settles on the cushions, Aubrie turns her eyes from Ruth and stares at her father, unsure of him for a second. Shifting so he can face them, Harry reaches a hand out and watches as she stares at it in wonderment before reaching out and grabbing his finger.

"Da?"

"Daddy." Ruth says, sliding her hands under Aubrie's and lifting her so she's sitting up.

"Dada." Aubrie says, pulling his finger until he leans closer. "iss?"

"Yes." he says, unsure of what exactly she's asking but surprised at the new word. Last he knew, she was only saying mama and dada.

Another milestone he missed.

"She wants a kiss."

"Hmm?" he asks, turning to look at Ruth.

"Iss. She's asking you for a kiss."

"Oh." Leaning down, he presses a kiss against her lips, feeling her free hand patting his cheek as he pulls back, feeling sad that he didn't know that.

"Harry..."

"It's alright Ruth." Reaching out, he pulls Aubrie to his lap, settling her against him before meeting Ruth's eyes. Seeing the guarded sadness there, he looks back down at Aubrie. At her mother's brown hair. "Really. I learned many years ago to deal with the disappointments that working for Her Majesty brings."

"It's not alright." She reaches a hand out to lie over his. "And I'm not alright with it."

Fear fills him at the possibility that she really is leaving him and he lifts his eyes to hers.

"We're not leaving." Fingers squeezing his hand, she shifts closer. "Not until you ask us too; even if I didn't want to be, I couldn't take our daughter from you. Not any longer. But I thought you should know, I'm not alright or happy with everything we've had taken from us by working for the Service. Not anymore."

"Fat chance of that." he says, turning his hand to link their fingers before sighing. Pausing a moment, he clarifies, "My asking you to leave. But, it brings up the fact that we need to talk."

It's not a question, rather a statement as he lifts his eyes once again to hers.

Pulling her legs under her, Ruth moves until she can lean into him, knowing they both will need the contact before the night is over.

* * *

It's almost an hour later when they're finally ready to talk about the important things..

Aubrie has long since fallen asleep against Harry's chest, her small hand still clutching the finger she had used earlier to pull him to her.

Harry and Ruth have moved too; Harry stretching out along the back of the couch, propped against the arm and cushions while Ruth is lying next to him, curled against his side with her hand resting on Aubrie's back as they talk about little things like favorite movies and holiday spots.

But there's still a lot left unsaid.

And something that has been nagging him.

"Ruth, something you said earlier; it's been bothering me."

Tilting her head back, she lifts her eyes to his and waits, years of working with him having taught her not to rush his thoughts process.

"When...you said you aren't alright with the Service, did you mean me specifically, or were you talking of the Service in general?"

"The Service Harry, of course the Service."

"It's just...last night..." he pauses, wondering how exactly to even describe what had occurred between them the night before.

She sighs as she looks down, fingers twisting a fine curl on Aubrie's head. "I wondered if you'd bring up last night."

"We have to talk about it." He shifts, his arm sliding to her back to pull her closer. "Especially as you seem to be under the impression that the only thing I want from you is sex."

"I've read your file Harry. I know your past. You've had more than your fair share of relationships over the years. You like sex; one could assume more than just a little."

"You're right, I do enjoy it. But if that's all I wanted, I could find it with little to no trouble. I assure you, there's any number of women out there who have no qualms with having sex..."

She pulls her head back to stare at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "In case you didn't notice that night, I was not a virgin. I do not have a problem with sex."

"If you'd let me finish." he says, tightening his arm around her back. She's quietly glaring at him as he continues. "Thank you. As I was going to say, there are any number of women out there who have no qualms having sex with a man outside of a relationship but I don't think you're one of them. I've read your file and know your past; there isn't more than two men in your past since before your university days."

"I don't know if that's any better." she mumbles, her eyes moving from his.

"It is. Ruth, if that's the type of woman that I wanted, then I'd have it. Fortunately; for both of us; you stumbled into my briefing room one morning. Full of naivety and unadulterated joy for life and that was it. There was no going back for me. There still isn't."

She lifts her gaze once again to find hazel eyes staring down at her. "What are you saying?" she asks softly.

"That for the past five years; since you tripped into my life; there hasn't been anyone else for me. Which I can assure you, hasn't been the case since my days at university."

"But those long months that I was gone, when you didn't know that I was coming back..."

"Didn't matter. Even without Aubrie it was only a matter of time before I sought you out.." He pauses a moment, letting that sink in before continuing. "But we're getting ahead of ourselves. And we can't. Not if we're going to keep from having those misconceptions like last night. When you assumed that I was putting Aubrie in her room, it wasn't to have sex with you."

"While you made that abundantly clear after the fact, I didn't know it then. What were you trying to do?"

"I wanted to be there for you. And to share in at least one big event in our daughter's life. And yet I still managed to screwed that up. You said when you two first got here that night that you'd never been away from Aubrie; that since the day she's been born, she's been with you."

"You're right, she has." Her gaze moves from his to the sleeping child between them. "I couldn't leave her. Not when..."

She stops and bites her lower lip.

"Not when what?"

"It's nothing." Looking up at him, she sees his concerned gaze and sighs, knowing he's not going to let it drop. Moving her shoulder, she shifts on the couch, her hand moving to rest of his arm.

"Harry, you've been a spook a lot longer than me but I can promise, you've never been pregnant while you're on the run in another country."

He has no answer to that because it's true. Spook or not, he's never had to run and he's never been pregnant.

"When I left, I had nothing but £2,000, two passports, and the clothes on my back. I didn't know where I was going to sleep, what my next meal was going to be, or even if I'd live that long. Olive Mace was gunning for me."

He cuts in here.

"I know you said he didn't do anything but..."

"He didn't. I promise. What happened in that room is exactly what I told you last week. His misfits grabbed me when the barge docked. I'd barely made it through the customs inspection before being pulled into the back of a van. They didn't hurt me but they weren't gentle either. By the time we'd stopped at that warehouse, I was bruised. And then...to be locked in that room. Sat on that cold concrete with nothing but the memory of your lips against mine and Ros' jacket, the reality of what I had agreed to set in."

She shifts, moving closer to him.

"I...it wasn't the first time I'd been away from my home or even on the continent. After my father died, mother sent me to boarding school in France. It's where I really started to learn the various languages. Being with girls from around the continent will do that for you. But it was the first time I wasn't Ruth anymore. Couldn't be Ruth. I'd just started to try and understand that when Oliver walked in. He was so angry. I know I said that before but you have to understand the utter hatred in his eyes. He wanted me dead. I knew it."

"Ruth..."

"No." she cuts him off, moving her head back slightly to look at him. "You...I...I'm only going through this once."

"Alright." he says softly. arm pulling her closer.

"Where was I? Oh, right. He was standing in that doorway, the anger burning in his eyes as he stared at me. I knew that he was going to kill me. And then what? If I was dead there was nothing that would keep him from coming back to England, from continuing what he'd started. But what could I do? I had nothing. Even the gun from earlier in the evening was with Zaf. I had a coat, no gloves, some cash and a passport. Nothing to stop him. And then that rat dropped onto him. I screamed. He screamed. The rat screamed. He started thrashing at the rat and it clung onto him. Bit him. As he tried to bash it off, more rats came to the defense of the first. They were all biting him, scratching at him. So I ran. Left him lying on that floor being attacked by rats. As I was running I thought briefly that maybe I should try and help him; keep them from eating him; but I realized he would still kill me. So I ran."

"You did the right thing." Harry says softly.

"I know. If I hadn't, we wouldn't be here right now. But God, I left a man lying on the ground being attacked by rats."

"And he would have done the same thing to you."

"It doesn't make it any better!" she snaps out, leaning back again to look at him.

He's about to snap back when he sees her eyes and sighs; fighting isn't what he wants and he doubts its what she wants either.

Leaning forward, he brushes a kiss against her lips; soft and sweet with no hint of anything more; and loosens his hold on her. "I don't want to fight with you." he says softly.

"Me either."

Moving his arm completely, he shifts as much as he can on the couch, holding Aubrie tighter to him. "Why don't we take some time to put Aubrie to bed; together; and then we continue this conversation in our bed. Just so none of us fall asleep here on the couch."

To Be Continued...

* * *

_**AN: Many, many thanks to Hannah for being my sounding board and guidance for this chapter and also to Rose and Kris for offering their invaluable feedback and insight as well as their Brilliance with a touch of Insanity. I'm moving house this coming weekend so I won't promise an update but we'll see what happens.**_


	15. You Know I'd Fall Apart Without You

**One Month Later**

It's the constant chirping of a mobile that pulls Ruth from the depths of sleep. Behind her, the solid warmth pressing against her back shifts and a moan can be heard before the chirping stops. As the duvet lifts, the cold, early morning air hits her back and she shivers, pulling the covers closer. In the distance, she can hear Harry speaking quietly as he answers the phone. The next time she surfaces, it's to the mattress dipping and Harry is speaking quietly again.

"You're still sleepy, aren't you my little Princess?"

"Hmm...Harry?" she asks groggily as she rolls to her back. Opening her eyes, she squints at the orange glow cast about their room from the hall. "What's wrong?"

"Someone woke up when I checked on her, didn't you sweetheart?" As he speaks, Harry lifts Aubrie to rub his nose on her stomach. "She needed a nappy change."

Pushing up on her elbows, Ruth opens her eyes wide briefly, trying to push the sleep away. "What time is it?"

"Half past three." Watching as Aubrie yawns, he pulls her close for a cuddle before looking over at Ruth. "And I have to go."

"Again?" She asks, reaching over to take Aubrie from him. Settling the little girl on her right, she tucks the blankets around her and watches as her eyes drift closed before turning back to Harry. Now that he's mentioned it, she notices he's fully dressed in a business suit.

He catches her eye, expecting to see anger, disappointment, or any number of other emotions he had seen on Jane's face but the only thing he can see is worry.

For him.

It warms him as he lifts a hand and brushes her cheek softly. "We've a lead on an outstanding case."

"It can't wait till morning?" Lifting her own hand, she rests it over his. "You haven't gotten a full night's sleep in well over a month."

"Hazard of the job." Leaning forward, he brushes her lips with his softly before standing. "I love you."

"I love you too." she says, leaning back onto the pillows as she watches him go.

* * *

It's one in the afternoon when the front door opens and Harry steps in. From the living room, Ruth looks up from the book she's reading as he stops into the doorway. Placing the bookmark between the pages, she sets it to the side and watches as he makes his way to her.

"Harry?"

He settles on the couch, an attaché case in his lap and his eyes on the video monitor sitting on the coffee table.

"Harry?" she tries again in the silence of the room. "What's wrong? Why are you home so early?"

"You need to go." His voice is quiet; restrained; as his eyes drift from the monitor to the attaché case.

"What? Go where?" Hand moving to rest on his arm, Ruth leans forward until she's pressing against him. "What are you talking about?"

He can't meet her eyes as he moves a hand to rest over hers. "You and Aubrie, you need to go. Soon. It's not safe anymore."

"Harry," hand turning, she grips his fingers tightly, "we're not going anywhere. We agreed. No more running away."

"Ruth." his voice breaks as he turns to look at her.

She can see the tears breaking at the corner of his eyes and leans forward, her free hand going to his cheek. "Talk to me. No more running, remember? Whatever it is, we can get through it together."

"We can't. Not this." Eyes shifting, he moves the case, opening it to pull out four neatly put together folders. Holding them, he opens the top one to pull out three passports. "Malcolm's spent the morning building legends; solid ones; and I've managed to move most of my liquid capital to secure off-shore accounts. Everything you'll need is here, in these folders."

"Stop it."

"There's a house; outside of La Motte-du-Caire; that I own. It's not overtly large; comfortable more than anything; but there's plenty of space for the three of you."

"Harry..."

"Please Ruth, we don't have time to argue. Zaf will be here soon."

"Harry I'm not leaving."

"It's not up for discussion." He stops now and finally looks at her, his hands reaching out to grip hers. "Oliver Mace was exonerated. He's back on British soil and what's more, he knows you're hiding somewhere in the country."

She can feel the panic gripping her at the mention of Oliver Mace but more than that, she feels the need to somehow protect Harry. Again. Opening her mouth, she begins to explain this to him when his lips press against hers. Her eyes flutter closed as she sighs and looses herself in the kiss. As he pulls away to rest his forehead against hers, she opens them again to meet his gaze.

"It's only temporary. Until we can neutralize Mace and clear your name."

To Be Continued...

* * *

**_AN: I wasn't expecting this but...well, the muses have final say. They also surprisingly said this is the second to last chapter - epilogue only left. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews on the last chapter; if you've the time, I hope you'll leave another one here._**


	16. There were days, lonely days

**_AN: Thanks to Hannah, Rose, and Kris for taking the time to offer their insight and thoughts on this chapters. It's because of them it got finished._**

* * *

"I don't want to go." she mumbles, her forehead still resting against his.

"I don't want you to go but it's the only way to ensure he can't get to you." Brushing his lips against hers again, he wraps his arms around her back and pulls her close. "If there was any other way..."

"I know."

He continues to hold her, his arms burning the feeling into his memory.

"Ruth...when this is over; when we finally get Mace; I'm done."

She pulls her head back to meet his eyes, a question in her gaze.

"I'm leaving the service. Retiring. I can't do this anymore. The constant cost to my personal life has gotten too high." Hand sliding along her spine, it slides along her shoulder to cup her cheek. "I want the chance to see Aubrie grow up; to watch her take her first step, go to nursery for the first time, to scare away the boyfriend with a neck tattoo and those big hole things in his ear; and I want that with you."

Before she can speak, he continues.

"I'm not asking you to marry me; not yet anyways; but I can't picture my life without the two of you in it."

She couldn't say anything to that; nothing she could come up with would be right. Except perhaps a breathless 'Oh Harry'; and even that she's not too confident about.

"You need to pack."

The suddenness at which he changes direction throws Ruth for a moment and she's left staring at him.

He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders and steps back.

"Right, I'll get Aubrie ready." His eyes show the sadness he is feeling as he says this, his fist clenching and unclenching at his side.

Ruth sees this. Feels it too. And wants to take it all away.

Hand reaching out, she lies it on his arm and squeezes. "Come with us."

"I can't." Somehow; though Ruth would have sworn it was impossible; his look grows even more mournful. "Not until Mace is dealt with. If I don't, we'll forever be watching over our shoulders, never having a moments peace. And I don't want that life for Aubrie; for you; for us."

* * *

France, June 27th

"The Silver Shoes,' said the Good Witch, 'have wonderful powers. And one of the most curious things about them is that they carry you any place in the world in three steps, and each step will be made in the wink of an eye. All you have to do is to knock the heels together three times and command the shoes to carry you wherever you wish to go." (Baum)

Thumb in her mouth, Aubrie listens to the words her mother's reading. They're curled together on a bench in the garden, the June sun shaded from them by the tall trees surrounding the property.

It's been three long months since that afternoon they'd been forced to leave England and for Ruth, this time around, it's been harder.

Before, it was just them and they were each a separate entity; their relationship was undefined. But now, there was three people involved; it wasn't just Harry and Ruth anymore. They had Aubrie to consider too.

And more so, their relationship was no longer undefined.

They were together; co-parents and so much more.

Or at least they were supposed to be.

And would have been.

If Oliver Mace hadn't reared his ugly face and ruined things for them again.

She's had time to think about that afternoon in those long evenings after Aubrie was in bed. And realize that Harry had been right in sending them away. It pained her to admit that he had been right. They were safe which meant Harry could focus on ousting Mace. And coming to them in France.

She could still remember there scant few minutes together before Zaf had appeared for them. Harry had gone to wake Aubrie and change her nappy while Ruth had tried to pack what they would need. When she'd finished, she'd gone to find Harry and found him sitting in the rocking chair cuddling Aubrie, talking to her quietly. She didn't know what he'd said but somehow she had wound up in his lap too, for a family cuddle.

Eventually the peace they had found had been interrupted by the arrival of Zaf.

Zaf, her dear friend who had helped her last time get away, was with them again. He'd been her rock in those difficult first weeks; the ones when she wanted nothing more than to find a way for her and Aubrie to get back with Harry.

But more than that, he was still alive. Which according to intel from 6, he may not have been had he not "died" that afternoon.

In a strategically planned accident on the A4.

Section D was a dangerous place to work.

The entire story had come out during their two day journey through the French countryside. How a band of mercenaries had been out to grab him and only the intel had saved his skin. Were Mace not to rear his ugly head, then chances are he would have been dead.

That train of thought would just cause tears and now was not the time for that.

"Dorothy now took Toto up solemnly in her arms, and having said one last good-bye she clapped the heels of her shoes together three times saying:

Take me home..."

"Gladly."

Breath catching, Ruth paused in the story and looked up. Her eyes met warm hazel ones, lit with a smile as Harry watched them from the path, his hands tucked into the pockets of worn denim.

"Harry."

"Hello Ruth." Voice low and deep, he stepped off the path and stood in front of them. "And my little Princess."

"Daddy!" Aubrie squealed, her thumb popping out of her mouth as she reaches for him.

Laughing, Harry reaches down and picks her up, his arms wrapping around her to hold her tight. Lips pressing against her hair, he turns her sideways to offer a hand out to Ruth. Grasping it tightly, he pulls her to her feet and into his other side. Arm sliding around her waist, he holds her close, his eyes slipping closed at the feeling of his family against him.

Ruth sags against him, fingers clutching his shirt as she buries her face in his chest. "You're really here."

"I'm really here. And I'm not leaving you two again."

The End

* * *

**_AN: And so ends 'Sail Away'. I have a few other stories to finish first but I do have a potential sequel planned for this. I hope you'll leave one last review._**


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